Chapter 4
The office smelled like old coffee and floor cleaner. I sat on the bench outside the main desk and held my backpack on my lap with both hands. My knuckles had gone white.
Ms. Delgado hadn't told me to sit there so much as steered me there. Her hand hovered near my shoulder but didn't touch me. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, too bright after the cool dim of the hallway. I could still hear my breathing, fast and shallow, and I tried to make it slower. My hoodie sleeve was damp where I'd wiped my face.
Tyler was supposed to follow but he wasn't on the bench. They'd put him in the small conference room to the left, door cracked open. Jace was further down, near the attendance window, arms finally uncrossed, staring at the green chairs like he wanted them to swallow him. My backpack felt heavier than it should have. I ran my thumb along the zipper.
I checked it without thinking, then checked it again. The bottom zipper pull was closed all the way to the corner. I tugged it just to be sure. Inside, folded twice, was my draft. I hadn't even printed it clean yet. Eight pages I'd handwritten at the kitchen table, the prompt about a personal challenge, and the letter my mom had written before she left for her shift last week, the one she said to keep safe and not fold wrong. If that zipper had come open in the hallway when Tyler reached for the bag, everyone would have seen it. I pressed my palm flat against the faded fabric with the brown leather patch and held it tighter to my chest. My legs started to tremble again and I locked my knees together.
Tyler's voice came through the cracked door. He wasn't talking to an adult. He was whispering to his phone, holding it low and close to his mouth the way he had in the hallway.
"Yeah, it's got her crying and everything," he murmured. A pause. A little laugh. "No, I'm putting it on private story tonight. Everyone's gonna see it." My stomach dropped. I could hear the soft tap as he thumbed his screen. He wasn't deleting. He was picking who to send it to. He said something else I couldn't catch, then, "Relax, it's not public. Just my people."
My hands shook harder. The backpack strap creaked under my grip.
My phone buzzed in my hoodie pocket. I didn't want to look, but I did.
It was Jace. One line.
my bad fr tyler took it too far sorry
I looked up before I read it twice. Down the row of chairs, Jace was glancing over at me, then away fast. His phone was in his hand, screen still lit. He gave me this small, tight shrug, like that was supposed to make it even. Like sorry without doing anything counted. I didn't answer. I turned my phone face-down on top of my backpack and didn't text back. My throat burned.
Ms. Delgado came back from the copier room with a notepad. She crouched down so her eyes were level with mine. She smelled like hand lotion and paper.
"Maya," she said quietly. "Can you tell me what happened out there? Just in your own words."
I opened my mouth. Nothing good came. If I said Tyler had filmed me crying, they'd watch the video. If they watched the video they'd see how I looked, how small I'd sounded. If I said why I wouldn't let go of the bag, I'd have to say what was inside. I shook my head once, short. My fingers tightened around the straps.
"It's okay if you need a minute," Ms. Delgado said. She didn't push, but she didn't stand up either. She waited. The silence stretched. The clock over the front desk ticked. I stared at the square of carpet by her shoes and squeezed my backpack until my arms ached. My breathing got louder again. She finally nodded, soft. "Okay. We'll wait until your dad gets here."
The front office door chimed.
A gust of cold air came in with him. I heard Ms. Delgado's chair scrape as she stood.
"I'm here for Maya," my dad said. His voice was a little out of breath, like he'd come fast. "Maya Alvarez. Got a call she needed me."
He was still in his work jacket, the dark one with the name patch faded at the chest. I knew without looking that his boots would be leaving faint wet marks on the tile and his hands would be rough and dry. I didn't lift my head at first. I just clutched the backpack harder and felt tears sting again, hot and sudden.
Ms. Delgado answered him, low and calm. "Thank you for coming so quickly, Mr. Alvarez. She's right here."
May you like
I finally looked up. He was standing in the lobby doorway, scanning past the front desk until he found me on the bench. Our eyes met. He didn't say anything yet. He just saw my face, tear-streaked, my hoodie, my bag locked against me.
The conference room door was still cracked. Tyler's phone screen glowed inside.
